


Pomegranate

by KittyBits



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 19:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10838178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyBits/pseuds/KittyBits
Summary: Will is alone in the forest when a creature comes to him.Persephone made her own choices.





	Pomegranate

Will spends this day as he does most: in the edge of a forest, before it turns so thick that he might come across Margot hunting with her hounds but far enough that Jack won’t spot him while inspecting the fields. It is not that he does not like Margot or Jack or any of the other Olympic gods that he has met but he prefers solitude over others, be they gods as himself or mortals.

Will keeps to the company of animals. If a deer stumbles across him he will feed it, speak to it gently, and be careful to lead it away from Margot if he knows where she currently leads her hunts. He does that with all the woodland he meets, but the deer are in the most danger of Margot and the other animals she hunts like the wild boars are too cautious of him to do other than run away on sight.

He has a flock of dogs. They follow him most of the time but have their own life and does not get along well with some of the forest creatures Wil likes so well. Rabbits only ever come to him when the dogs are away.

This day the dogs are not in his presence. He presumes they are on the hunt; maybe on their own or maybe they have joined Margot’s.

He misses their presence but enjoys the quiet his complete isolation brings. He has not heard shuffling in the forest floor or the trilling melodies of the birds and he feels free of it all.

However, he too feels afraid.

He is unaware of the reason, but the hairs on the back of his neck has risen and he feels as if eyes follow the movement of his throat as he swallows. A look around shows nothing unusual. The night is falling earlier than the day before, as it is wont in the fall, and the shadows around him grows deeper. The air is still warm though and Will still wears his toga rolled down at his hips where it blooms in a skirt ending mid-thigh.

A drop if sweat rolls down the side of his neck and he swallows again.

“Hello,” he calls out. He hopes it goes unanswered but watches, breath catching in his throat as the shadows not far from him thicken and a creature forms from them.

If Will was standing he would fall to his knees. He has never before seen a creature such as this one: tall and humanoid but completely bald and black as night. It has antlers that seem to reach the tree crowns above the two of them.

But then the creature changes. The antlers that seemed so solid turns translucent and disappears as the skin of the body grows lighter and lighter till it is almost as milky white as Will’s own. Hair sprouts on top of the creature’s head and on his chest and around his groin where too genitals form and Will feels like choking and feels his cheeks heat and hurriedly tears his eyes back up the body of the man-that-was-a-creature

His eyes meets Wills and he drops his gaze to the man’s chest and sees as a toga forms of nothing; the fabric as black as the creature’s skin was.

“Hello,” the man says, “I did not mean to startle you; I did not think you would notice me.”

“There were no bird song,” Will explains. The he wonders why he felt the urge to do so and glances quickly at the face of the man before him. His face is strange to Will, but handsome. Handsome and dangerous, with the sharp cheekbones and eyes that seem to hold Will’s captive.

“Birds tend not to around me,” the man says and Will feel his confusion disappear.

“Hannibal,” he says and notices the man – Hannibal – smile as he locks his eyes right above his shoulder.

“Indeed.” He walks up to Will and stops barely two steps away. Will feels trespassed against but so curious. “And who might you be? I do not recall seeing you at the gatherings on Olympus.”

“Will,“ Will says. ”Charge of Jack and Bella.”

“God and goddess of the harvest,” Hannibal ascertains. “And how have they gained a charge as handsome, nay beautiful as you?”

Will feels suddenly disappointed. There are many reasons he shuns the company of gods and men but it all comes down to the things he sees in their eyes.

Will is not exactly welcome on Mount Olympus, not that anyone would deny him entrance but no one would greet him or speak with him and meet his gaze. In his eyes they see their shortcomings and their guilt. In their eyes he sees the same.

All too often, he too has seen their lust. How they want to possess him. He sees it in Jack and increasingly in the goddess Alana their wish to possess him, though it does not stem in the same carnal emotions as it often does.

“They found me at the oracle in Delphi and had me raised from demi-god to full deity. They speculate that Apollo might be my father.”

“They do not know that you are aware of their musings,” Hannibal says. It is not a question so Will does not answer, merely gives a small shrug of his shoulder. He is mad. At Hannibal for being just like every else Will has met since he grew out of childhood and at himself for allowing the disappointment. He ought to know better.

“Can I help you with anything?” Will asks. He wants the other god to leave him to his solitude. The dogs will not return if he is with someone and no animal would come near him while in the presence of the god of death.

“Why will you not meet my eyes?” Hannibal asks.

“People usually don’t like it when we lock gazes for too long,” Will says. It is a truth but not the true response to the inquiry.

“Why should you care for them? I certainly do not,” Hannibal says. It is not the response Will expects and he quickly darts his gaze to Hannibal and sees only curiosity before darting back above the shoulder.

“I usually don’t like what I see,” Will grudgingly admits. “If Apollo truly is my father, the gifts he has given me feels more akin to a curse than a blessing.” It is too honest an answer, Will knows, but this is Hannibal, the god of death, if anyone would ever understand his dislike of his godly powers surely, it would be him.

“Ah, to see the desires and shames in every person you meet must be a heavy burden to bear; you must be stronger than you appear. Smarter.” Will does not understand the tone of Hannibal’s voice and glances again at his face. When his eyes catches on Hannibal’s he finds them unable to move away.

Hannibal is blank.

Will cannot see anything beyond the amusement crinkling in the corners of his eyes and the curious tip of his head. He sees no deep carnal desire, no blood-red need to fuck and kill nor any shame, black and strangling.

“I don’t seen anything in you,” Will says with wonder.

“Perhaps you need to be closer,” Hannibal suggests and Will’s feet move without his command. Closer he can ascertain the color of Hannibal’s eyes –maroon with a hint of red as the last rays of the sun catches in them – but nothing else. His heart flutters in his chest as he steps toe-to-toe with Hannibal and steadies himself with a hand on his chest.

“You’re eyes are empty,” he concludes. He never moves his gaze from Hannibal’s but feel his hands settle on his back.

“My arms aren’t,” Hannibal says and his lips twist with mirth. “Close your eyes.”

Will does as asked and feels a shiver of cold as wave of unearthliness washes through him. The air grows cool around him from one moment to the other and Hannibal shifts has hands to grasp Will’s.

“Open your eyes,” he says but Will does not.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t need to, I know where I am. Where you brought me.”

“If you wish so I will take you back.”

Will opens his eyes. Hannibal is not as close to him anymore but Will’s hand still rests on his chest, his arm not stretched completely.

“Why have you brought me here?” he asks and lets his eyes slide from his face to their surroundings. It is a great hall, bigger than any Will has ever seen even on Olympus, built entirely of carved black marble. They are alone in the hall and it is free of furnishing except for a throne at one end. “Why have you brought me to your kingdom and your throne room?”

“I wanted to share a meal with you.” A long table appears beside them. It bears a black tablecloth and every meal Will has ever found delight in eating.

“We couldn’t eat this much if we tried for five days,” Will says mostly to himself.

“Then we shall stay for six,” Hannibal responds. Will still cannot read from Hannibal’s eyes as he does from everyone else he has ever met, but he does not need to read it in Hannibal’s eyes to know what sharing this meal with him would mean.

One does not return to the realm of the living after ingesting the fruits of the dead.

“Why have you brought _me_ here, Hannibal,” Will repeats and slides his hands from god before him to walk to the table decked with every delicacy and course that could ever tempt him.

“Because you might see the desires and deepest shames of everyone else, but I see just that in you, sweet William, and I want them. I am lonely down here but I have never considered sharing this existence with anybody, it would be a curse that would bring anyone to despair and insanity. Never have I considered bringing someone here until I first saw you. You would flourish here, I am certain. Have you ever seen blood in moonlight, William?”

“Yes.”

“You are more beautiful than any praised youngling that have even walked the earth, but I know as you do, that inside you are black like blood in moonlight.”

Will slid his finger in the bowl with pomegranate seeds and grabbed handful, stuffing them in his mouth. The juice ran down his chin, dripped onto his chest.

 


End file.
